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And by the way, the fact that I’m talking to you? This is what happens when I’m up at dawn without my coffee, half asleep, trapped with the least cute couple of the decade!
Who seemed determined to air their drama in her face.
When Paula had stumbled out of her condo a few minutes earlier, they were already in the hallway hissing at each other. She’d considered hanging back; oh, how she wished she had.
Unlike certain people,shehadn’t spent December twenty-third partying.Shehad spent it working at her computer, getting a rush job out for a client. The client had called her at the last minute and stubbornly insisted that he needed it done before Christmas. Paula had her doubts. Who, barring Santa himself, had Christmas day deadlines?
She’d bitten her tongue on a tart, “Why, will your sleigh take off without you?” and met the deadline with the same patient cheer she used with every client. It paid off. Already the client had gotten back to her with effusive thanks and promised to refer her to all his colleagues.
Yes, this worker bee had earned her rest, thank you very much. She fully intended to hop back into her velveteen covered bed and linger there all day. As soon as she had her coffee.
Coffee.Wistful memories floated in. Nights in the kitchen of her parents’ house drinking cardamom coffee with her dad. Her smile ended on a sigh. Maybe next year.
“Oh, don’t be so stuffy, Bastian,” the woman trilled now. “What’s wrong with having some holiday fun? You should try it for a change. You know, live it up once in a while.”
“I am not stuffy,” the man gritted through teeth that were annoyingly flawless, straight and white.
Paula peeked over at him. It was really too bad this guy was such a sourpuss. That deep, masculine voice always reminded her of hot maple syrup, capable of dampening panties from yards away. She was willing to admit that much...ifsomebody held a gun to her head.
Because contrary to his physical appearance, her neighbor was a jerk. That outrageous hotness was all skin deep.
Since she’d moved in next door to him, it was one thing after another. Each encounter was more unpleasant than the last.
So this morning, she’d crossed her arms over her chest and turned away as soon as she recognized him. She had no intention of ever talking to him again. Or smiling. Or acknowledging his existence. Nope, no more Ms. Nice Neighbor. You didn’t have to tellhersix times.
All she had to do was get through this one elevator ride.
“Oh, no? Then why are you always telling me to brush my teeth? On and on forever, brush your teeth, Georgette. I’m like, am I dating the hygiene police or what?”
“That’s enough,” the man growled, still quietly. One thing she had to give him: unlike his companion, he, at least, seemed aware of her presence.
“And then,” the woman scolded, “you go and command me to wear a suit. Like I’m some lackey of yours. A business suit! To Christmas Eve at your family’s mansion. I’ll look utterly ridiculous!”
Her voice was a sulky rasp, but Paula couldn’t really blame her. The guy wanted his girlfriend—date—sleepover—whatever she was—to wear a suit at Christmas? Micromanaging jackass.
“It’s a good networking opportunity,” he said stiffly.
“Christmasis? Pfffff. Why do you have to always be such a party-pooper? Everything’s always businessy business with Bastian. You’re impec—pecca—perrrrfect. Just look at that, look at that bubble butt. Look at it I tell you! It’s famous! Did you know that? How can a woman even compete with that? Come on, Bastipoo, spill. Who’s your ass tailor?” She cracked up.
“I said, that’s enough.”
Still giggling, ignoring the warning signs Paula could see clear as day, she sailed on, “Tell ya somethin’. If not for all those poshy-posh people you hook me up with, I’d have dumped your ass months ago. You know what that ass is? False advertising! You’re boooooring! No fun at all! No fun in bed, no fun at parties. And you know what, those bratty little cousins you’re always bragging about, they’re boring too. They’re mini Bastians. Say, are they coming tonight? Willtheybe wearing suits and ties? I bet those baby Bastians spend the whole time handing out business cards. And oh my god, your parents. Fess up. Has your whole family won the dullness award?”
Paula let out a snort. Either the other two didn’t notice or they ignored her. Correction: the man ignored her. The woman, now clinging unsteadily to his sleeve, still showed no signs of being aware of Paula’s existence…or of the hostility blasting from the man.
Paula sensed it just fine. He was angry, oh, yes he was.
“If that’s the way you feel, Georgette, please feel free to opt out.”
“Opt out? Opt out of the party? You mean tonight?”
“That’s right.”
“You want me tocancel?”
The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.Finally.
Peering through the widening gap, Paula spotted the far end of the gleaming lobby, where the picture windows let in only darkness. Dawn was still a long way away. Her eyes drifted shut. Yawning sleepily, she sagged against the wall, letting the couple exit ahead of her.
